Meandering

there are three.
two know the secret
and I in the dark.

there is meandering and
things are said that upset;
quiet and whisper in my ear.
the seep of loss- trinity lost.

to fight the good fight, edge
and the world is not as 1950s-
hair set and perfect in the rain;
i strain to hear.

slow, and so many hurts, and wants
and slow,
slow creep,
up, ever high,
claw and hold, live and smile,
sometimes;
so there, and reap and
sow,
one alone.